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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694319">Soil of a Seed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/b2hiss/pseuds/b2hiss'>b2hiss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Backstory, Canon Backstory, Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/b2hiss/pseuds/b2hiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is incredible how one simple act spurred by a single emotion could cause the downfall of humanity. This is Ymir Fritz, 2000 years ago.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She loved to watch the flowers bend in the wind. It looked like they were dancing. Back and forth they moved. She stepped carefully around them, so as not to walk on any, and imagined herself dancing with them in the wind. These at her feet were lilac-tinged white. How many petals did they have? One, two, three, four--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YMIR!” Ymir jumped and ran, forgetting about the flowers. Her feet crushed them hastily as she ran to the woman who called her. “We need this water now!” called the short woman. Her slaves’ uniform was dirty, as well as her hands and feet. Only her blonde hair and tired face were clean. When Ymir approached with the heavy jug of water from the well, the woman grabbed it and carried it inside. Screams of labor came from within.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody told her to do anything more, so Ymir squatted at the door to peek inside. Births were not common among the slave population of the tribe of Eldia. She was surprised to see so much blood. It covered the mother’s legs, the sheets she lay on, and the hands of the midwife. It reminded her of a village after a raid. Ymir held herself tighter. She felt sorry for the mother, who had been screaming for hours now. Sometimes she passed out and stopped, but then she continued screaming right away once she woke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ymir!” At her name, Ymir jumped to attention. The young man called her over. “Can you finish cleaning this for me?” Ymir nodded. “Great,” he said and handed her the shovel. It was caked in pig shit. “I owe you one,” he said. Ymir smiled. She liked him because he was nice to her. He always asked, never commanded. She didn’t have any brothers, but if she did, she’d want them to be like him. She scraped the shovel clean and entered the pigpen to get the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pigs barely looked up when Ymir stepped around them to clean up their messes. Muffled screams continued from the birthing hut. Ymir began to shovel, dreaming about a life outside of their encampment. She thought about the baby soon to be born, and how all its life it would only know slavery. She started to feel bad for it too. Sometimes she just wanted to run free through the woods. Her arms ached from the heavy shovel as the screaming petered out. The thick, round pigs around her shuffled their snouts, looking for food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YMIR!” It was the short woman calling her again. Ymir propped the shovel against the fence and climbed over it. When two commands conflicted, Ymir knew better to service the more immediate one. She reached the doorway quickly. “Take this,” the woman said to her, handing her a mass of folded clothes. It was heavier than it looked, and blood began to seep through the yellowed white. “Leave it with the pig shit,” she said, then turned towards the others inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curiosity compelled Ymir to look around the doorway. The midwife was seated against a wall, her head down and bloodied arms resting on her knees. The bed was empty, and then Ymir saw two others wrap the mother in more colorless, blood-stained sheets. The body was limp and silent. She looked for the baby, but it was silent too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GO!” screamed the woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ymir hurried away. She took the bundle to the pile of refuse building up at the side of the pigs’ pen. There didn’t seem to be room for anything additional. She thought about folding the mess of clothes. That way, it would fit better. But when she unfolded the mass, she quickly wrapped it up again and lay it on the ground by the heap, then backed away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The baby didn’t make it, either. It was wrapped up in the stained sheets with its own blood and birthing juice. The purple color of its skin made it look unreal. It scared her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ymir caught her breath, then took the bundle up again. She laid it in the grasses on the other side of the heap. Then she picked a flower and placed it on the mass. Her heart ached for the ugly, inert baby, but she comforted herself knowing that it didn’t have to suffer a life in their world. It was luckier than her, even. It wouldn’t know hunger, or pain, or cold, or the torment of having to live according to another. It would never know what punishment was, or injustice, or loneliness or grief. In its death, the baby had more freedom than Ymir could dream of. It and its mother, too, both gone from her cruel world. Ymir was lost in her thoughts again. Maybe it would be better to follow them...but no. She was needed by the others. She had to stay, to serve them. She climbed the fence, found the shovel, and picked it up to continue her work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pigs rolled over each other. They were easily more than twice Ymir’s weight, so she watched herself around them. She wasn’t scared of them, though, just their size. She thought they were like her. If she could talk to them, she would say, “I know how you feel. I was born for others, too. My life doesn’t belong to me. I also dream about living beyond here.” But she couldn’t talk to them. One looked up at her with its black eyes and long eyelashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she finished, Ymir cleaned the shovel and placed it on the side of the fence.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The king’s seat was at the center of their town, situated on a long, wide platform that overlooked a flat, grassy courtyard. He always had his armed and well-equipped soldiers with him, although more for a show of power than for the threat of attack. Their weapons, shields, banners, and armor were all decorative. The only ones that had more bite than bark were the snarling dogs tied next to their handlers. Ymir shivered standing in the crowd of other Eldian slaves before the platform.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of you has let a pig go,” said the king. “Who was it? If nobody answers, you will all lose one eye.” The people were very still. “Slaves do not need both eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, the crowd around her shuffled away from Ymir. She stood and looked around, making eye contact with the young man from the pigpen. He raised a finger to point at her. Ymir’s heart dropped. In the circle around her she faced pointed fingers. They were all for her. Her gaze fell from the other’s face to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it was you,” the king asked. Ymir felt her legs drop her to the grass in front of him. “I see,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gathering was silent. Ymir felt the wind gently blow her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. You are free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ymir looked up, then around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got up and stumbled away, heading towards the forest, and began running. Soon she heard commotion from behind her, the sound of horse hooves and heavy breathing. As she turned to look, one soldier grabbed her right arm, then her left, holding it with one hand while the other hand held her around her temples. She was too shocked to scream, but then something solid approached her face and she began to shriek from the pain when she felt something snap in her head behind her brow. Her vocal chords would only allow a gasping hiss of air, which compelled the soldiers to laugh and release her. It was more than any other pain she’d felt before. Her knees and hands started to tremble with adrenaline from how much she felt it pierce her senses. The pain was so thick, so sharp and so tangible in her head that she felt like she could reach in and pull it out. If only she could. She lifted her hands up to her left eye, and they came away covered with bright red blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go! You’re free!” Ymir ran into the woods, stumbling against trees and bushes. She lost her depth perception along with her eye, and she could not run well through a two-dimensional world. The soldiers stayed behind her, but she heard them laugh and talk and follow her on their horses. The pain in her empty eye screamed at her, and then she felt another pain in her shoulder--they shot her with an arrow. Other arrows snapped into tree trunks to her right and left. She was aching from head to foot and very, very thirsty now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t the freedom she wanted. This was nothing like what she dreamed. Her mind told her to stop, just accept it, accept your end, your true freedom. She wanted to die and leave like the baby and its mother. But despite that she kept going. Another arrow hit her calf as she ran, bleeding and crying, through the woods. She limped, gasped, and stumbled, suddenly tripping over something yet again. With her one good eye she saw her blood splash onto a lilac-tinged white flower. It had eight petals. Ymir struggled to her feet through the aches in her injured muscles and the sharp pain blinding her. A tall, gnarled tree welcomed her to walk inside the gap at its base. All sound faded as she rushed inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water felt thick, but it was also cooling and relaxing against Ymir’s wounds. She struggled to breathe, losing her air. Slowly she lost consciousness as well. She felt her senses numb. She stopped seeing, breathing, moving…</span>
</p><p>-</p><p>
  <span>The soldiers heard her before they saw her. From an immense spine, towering high up above them, formed a skull, and ribs, and limbs. The heat was intense despite being so far away. It dispersed birds and toppled trees. The giant stood straight, revealing an incredible height. Her hair flowed in strands, whipping around her head from the wind and rising heat. Her ribcage revealed a gaping emptiness that was framed by extended rib bones and units of spinal cord. No sound came from her besides the hissing of the hot air. She neither screamed nor announced her presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king’s men rushed back to report what they saw. The Titan stayed staring at the sky with the unseeing hollows of her eyes. The steam enveloped her and rose into the air like a signal flare.</span>
</p>
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